


Worth It

by Amyused



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Birthday, M/M, Rap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 02:29:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2174724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amyused/pseuds/Amyused
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The things Zaizen does for Kenya...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth It

**Author's Note:**

> Written by the Paula half of Amyused.
> 
> Happy birthday, Kenya!!! Have a birthday drabble. Warning- Kenya's favourite style of music is rap/hip-hop. Zaizen likes indie rock. This fic is from Zaizen's POV. Err... obviously, he's not a fan of Kenya's taste in music, so please don't take offense at his displeasure.

This was so not worth it, Zaizen thought as he resisted the urge to wince for what had to be the fiftieth time since entering the club. Of course, there was a very good reason why Zaizen would willingly assault his ears and sit down to a light dinner at a hip-hop club of his own volition. He figured that, well, a person’s twentieth birthday is actually sorta important when it came down to it. It was just his misfortune that the person he was treating to a night of musical entertainment happened to have terrible, terrible taste.

A brief bit of online searching for an appropriate venue in the area had turned up LIVEBEAT, a live-house-slash-club just one train stop away from their shared apartment. And, as luck would have it, they were currently in the middle of hosting a hip-hop dance and rap exhibition for the whole month of March, with different local groups and DJs participating every evening. It was a great idea for a birthday present, if he did say so himself. But such things really are easier said than done, and now Zaizen had to grit his teeth and bear the record scratches and yelling from both the audience and performers while his partner happily bobbed his head to the heavy, pounding beat of the speakers.

Zaizen just didn’t get the appeal. There was no singing, just shouting in a stilted mash of English and Japanese so that the lyrics were incomprehensible to everyone, regardless of linguistic background. To Zaizen, hip-hop barely even counted as music. It was only loud, booming, noise. The dancing was at least impressive in the technique and athletic ability necessary to actually do some of the moves, but the fashion? Zaizen desperately wanted to make a derisive remark about people not knowing their own pants sizes. Was it too much to ask for there to be someone with some sense of style in the nearby vicinity? But, he knew that it would hardly be a fun experience for the birthday boy if his company spent the whole evening complaining, so he sat. And endured. Zaizen almost felt like he was getting a headache from not frowning. Of course, that was probably because of the concentration it took to keep from doing it.

Just has Zaizen swallowed yet another sigh of suppressed distaste, Kenya glanced back over at Zaizen and smiled the beatific smile of someone having a great time. He reached over the table slightly to squeeze the other’s hand briefly in appreciation before turning his eyes back to the dancers, now spinning in a one-handed hand stand. Zaizen’s ears burned slightly as he reached for his water glass.

Yeah, okay. It was worth it.


End file.
